Tuesday, October 6, 2009

There is music everywhere…

This is New York. This is the place where the best is the last, where there is too much, where the good is the bad. It is all relative. And that is why the city is magical. New York is a muse, the best place to find inspiration in every corner if you are sensible enough to see beyond the first layer. You are in a restaurant, full of people, everybody laughing, apparently having a good time. Big table with co-workers must likely from out of town, yet nobody is there – John Doe is texting, Jane Doe is so into her blackberry must likely facebooking and the others, no less than fifteen, are either taking pictures or pretending to care. What is the matter with you people? When all you want is a free meal and a souvenir. I don’t get it. It is a waste, not only of money, but of time and life. Even in your worst moments, even if you are not with your friends, you must find the small tiny piece that makes it work, only because you are there!

If you pay attention, if you really care, even in a room full of people, non-related people, there is magic, there is art, there is music inside. In this case the room has a live jazz band that almost nobody is willing to care. But if you dare, just slow down and listen: after a few moments, along with the nice rhythm and a good sax there are voices, indistinct noises that mean less then nothing if you try to understand. But along the notes, they sound like an instrument: bi di bum bam bam… bu di di bam bam… if you follow along, you can tell, that the magic of an indistinct crowd is their natural way of singing along. Who cares what they are saying or what their individual cry is about. All along, as a unity, is the nice voice of humanity, pacing with the notes as if they knew the tune, making a high note as beautifully as if they all practiced for months; creating the crescendo of the night as if they had a cue from a non-existent director marking the pace of the evening’s orchestra just in time to slow down and fade the moment to a finale framed by desserts and after dinner drinks that were part of the individual program we all followed along to have the perfect symphony, only audible to the ones willing to listen. For the rest, is just annoying restaurant noise. It is all relative, but I choose to enjoy.

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